


battlefield

by Roflskate



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Sex, Canon Compliant, F/M, Robert and Renly's sex advice, Selyse tries her best, Stannis gets off to doing his DUTY, but really the most awkward marriage situation ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:25:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roflskate/pseuds/Roflskate
Summary: ”If truth be told, I ofttimes wonder how Stannis ever got that ugly daughter of his. He goes to his marriage bed like a man marching to a battlefield, with a grim look in his eyes and a determination to do his duty."-In which Stannis Baratheon attempts to be a dutiful husband, and there are awkward times for everyone involved.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theoldgods (missandei)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=theoldgods+%28missandei%29).



> This was something of a companion piece to "The Opposite of Love", but you don't really need it to understand what's going on.
> 
> And again, while everything is consensual, I do feel like I need to point out that neither parties are particularly enthusiastic about one another beyond marital obligation.

It was an unpleasant task, but it needed to be done.  
  
Had it not been for his fool of an elder brother ( _his king_ , he had to quickly remind himself), perhaps the act would already be over and done with. But instead, it had been delayed while Robert had made a fool of both him and his new wife to be. Despite his rage, perhaps he had (for only a moment) been oddly  _grateful_  to the man ( _his king_ ) in his own queer sort of way. After all, thanks to Robert’s disruption, there had been no need (or rather no  _want_  on behalf of the fools that seemed to populate the court of King’s Landing) for a “proper” (though Stannis really had to question if anything about the matter  _could_  be considered proper) bedding. So in a sense, Robert had traded him  _one_  humiliation for another, delaying the inevitable.  
  
He still could not decide whether it was worse to be stripped naked in front of the entire female court, or to discover one’s elder brother in your marriage bed with your newly minted wife’s cousin.  
  
After the ordeal, much of the evening had  _seemed_  to pass by in a blur. He recalled Selyse crying, Florents (among others, though it seemed to Stannis that perhaps they were the loudest) whispering, and Davos, ever loyal, attempting to reassure him that everything would be set right. Of course, thanks to the man’s  _honesty_ , it was less of a reassurance, and more of a statement that in time, the humiliation would be forgotten.  
  
Truth be told, it had done little to calm his nerves. Were he the sort, he might have indulged in drink, but it had seemed to him that might serve only to aggravate the situation even further. And so Stannis Baratheon remained in stone cold sorority, half filled with a fury at his brother’s insult and folly, and half terrified, dreading what would happen once all the matters were finally as “resolved” as they could hope to be.  
  
Even so, regardless of how the rest of the evening had gone, none of it particularly mattered now. They been given a bedchamber (not nearly as ornate as the one that had been prepared for them, but Stannis cared little for such to begin with), and both of them knew well enough what they would have to  _do_. Yet, neither of them made any sort of motion towards one another. In fact, Selyse seemed rather entranced with a candle that sat on a dresser across from the bed.

 

* * *

 

  
In the days and weeks preceding his marriage, he had received a fair deal of advice from a variety of sources, most of it incredibly unwanted. Yet, as he sat here, at an utter  _loss_  of what to do (or rather,  _knowing_  what to do, but having little to know idea as to how to go about the whole thing), those voices were slowly, yet  _surely_  beginning to fill his mind.  
  
As soon as the engagement had been announced, Robert had come to him, offering some “brotherly” advice, despite the fact that the both of them knew full well there had been nothing “brotherly” about their relationship for as long as either of them remembered.  
  
“I’ve heard your wife’s supposed to be painful to look at. I told you that you had the pick of any woman in the Reach, so  _why_  her?”  
  
Stannis frowned, saying nothing, but it seemed Robert took that as an excuse to carry on with his rambling.  
  
“Regardless, it’s good that you wasted no time into getting around to it. I can’t have my younger brother remaining a maid for  _too_  much longer. After all, people might start to talk talk.”  
  
Stannis clenched his jaw, wishing that he could shoot a retort back at him, but finding that he was suddenly (and oddly) at a loss for words. Despite his best efforts, Robert always had that effect on him.  
  
“Now, let me tell you something, and it’s important. You want to stick your cock in there as quickly as you like. But not too quick, first you want to make sure if she’s wet and ready. Now, I’d normally not put too much faith in you for that, but if this woman is as unsightly as they say she is, there’s a good chance that she’ll take anything that’s given to her. So you want to get right in there, and fuck her. Hopefully by then it will be dark enough, and she’ll be just as pretty as any woman. But remember, get it in quick and hard, but take your time once you’re in there. No use in bedding her if you don’t enjoy it just a little.”  
  
Stannis had wanted to point out that the _point_ in bedding her was the promise of an heir, but as Robert continued to laugh, he found himself forced to let the matter lie.

 

* * *

  
  
Coming back to the present, Stannis glanced over at his wife once again. He couldn’t help but think that the best solution to the matter seemed to be  _not_  to follow Robert’s advice (though he did a good enough job of following his own with her cousin). And so he remained there, sitting, and unsure of what to do.  
  
It was Selyse that broke the silence.  
  
“What is it that you mean to do, my Lord?” Her voice was sharp, and to the point. Stannis could  _swear_  that he could detect a hint of annoyance. “Given the situation, I cannot help but think that perhaps it might be prudent to—”  
  
But Stannis did not let her finish that subject. Robert had already made a fool of him  _once_ , he would not let his brother allow him to not complete the most basic of duties to his lady wife. Cutting her off, he begins to speak in turn.  
  
“I am well aware of the situation, my Lady.” Stannis interrupted, voice perhaps too firm. When he sees what he is  _positive_  now is a look of annoyance, pauses for a moment, before speaking again. “I… mislike this as much as you, but it must be done, sooner rather than later.”  
  
She swallows loudly, that look still there. “Can it not wait, my lord?”  
  
_Can it not wait_. If truth be told, he wished for it to wait likely as much as  _she_  did. Women made him uncomfortable enough with their clothes on, and it was bound to be far worse with her  _out_  of them. But all the same, it  _had_  to be done. And when he spoke again, he found himself saying just as much.  
  
“I have need of a son. An  _heir_.” Great or small, we must do our duty, and I imagine that it will be… better for the both of us to finish this task.” Sooner rather than later. It would do no good of them to wait.  
  
He turned back at her to await her answer, but to his horror, it had seemed that she had taken his words to heart, standing up, already beginning to unlace her dress, the white smallclothes underneath showing through, making the curves of her body… her… breasts… all too visible.  
  
Again, he found a brother’s advice creeping back into his mind. This time, it had been  _Renly_ , a boy of no more than ten who already had far too much of his elder brother in him (likely being brought about by making the lad a  _lord_  of all things before he was even a man grown). It had been in the form of a letter, offering him congratulations, and once again some friendly “brotherly” advice (though perhaps it should be viewed as cause for concern that his younger brother, not even a man grown considered himself fit to give his brother of two and twenty  _marital_  advice). It had been short and sweet:  
  
_I heard a lord once say that the best part of a woman is the breasts, and when you make an heir you need to focus on them or you won’t get one. I asked the maester and he said it was absurd but I am quite certain that the lord was a very reliable source. So when you make an heir, be sure to look at her breasts”_  .  
  
Stannis couldn’t help but marvel at his brother’s idiocy and foolishness. He knew well enough that  _breasts_  had nothing to do with such a thing, and quite frankly he could barely understand the appeal of them. They were merely lumps of fat to produce milk, were they not? In the technical sense, that was what they were, but the way that some men talked, you would swear that they were so much more than that (Stannis couldn’t help but wonder if that came from feeding off of a wetnurse for far too long).  
  
But all the same, particularly interesting or no, he found himself starring directly at the… breasts of his lady wife. He  _wished_  to avert his eyes from his lady wife, for it seemed all too inappropriate for him to stare. Yet, as though he was watching a beheading unfold in front of him, he found that he very well  _couldn’t_ , and instead remained transfixed as she began to shrug off her smallclothes with that same… annoyed (that is what it  _had_  to be) expression. He hated himself for looking. He hated the way his eyes glanced her up and down, observing her body hair (…a suitable amount, he could not help but think), looking at her arms, her legs, before his eyes finally settled on her—  
  
“Clothing.” He heard her say.  
  
Stannis looked up, eyes still filled with horror. He couldn’t figure out what exactly it was that she meant.  
  
“Do you—” she started, something in her eyes that Stannis almost mistook for apprehension, though her voice retained that same annoyed (had he been wrong? No. He was  _positive_  that annoyance was the proper word), “Do you intend to remove your clothing, or have you another method to…” Her voice trailed off.  
  
Stannis could not help but frown, once again feeling the utter fool.  
  
“I would rather…” He swallowed, contemplating whether or not this meant that he should begin to unlace his breeches and join her in a similar state of… undress.  
  
“…It matters not.” She finished, eyes darting around the room. And again, they sat in silence, Stannis finally able to pull his eyes away from her, though still acutely aware as she sat next to him again, though she made no further movements. No, of  _course_  she would make no further movements.  _That_  would be entirely forward and wanton of her, after all  _he_  was the man and it was his duty.  
  
_It is my duty and I have been sorely neglecting it, starring at the woman like some halfwit fool._  In  _that_  regard, it was truly no wonder that she thought him to be an annoyance.  
  
_It is my duty._  Something in his stomach felt somewhat queer, and he was not quite sure on how to put it (though perhaps he had experienced a similar sensation one or two times before in his life). He thought of excusing himself for a moment, but he knew that would do neither of them any good.  
  
_It is my duty_.  
  
Reciting those words again to himself, he leaned over, lips crashing into her own. There was really no way to describe it all  _but_  as “crashing”. There was nothing gentle or fine about the kiss, but it was a kiss all the same. It was painfully obvious that neither of them had any particular idea what they were doing as teeth knocked together, and when they broke apart for a moment, he could not help but notice that her lips were entirely wet. But, even so, it was a  _start_ , and so he continued on kissing her, not entirely sure what to do with his hands except…  
  
Except…  
  
Rest them on her breasts. They felt just as he had expected, and as he ran a hand over one of her nipples, he still couldn’t exactly see what the great fuss was about. To be sure they were… distracting, but he still understood nothing of the appeal. Perhaps that was a problem, but either way, it mattered little to him.  
  
But the problem with progress, it seemed was that it could only last for so long, and after a few minutes (it was only  _minutes_  was it not?), he knew full well that despite Renly’s so-called assurance, fondling a woman’s breasts could not and  _would_  not create an heir. This needed to be done and  _quickly_. Gently, removing his hands from her breasts, he attempted to push her back down onto the bed, but she didn’t seem to quite understand his intent.  
  
So, there was no choice but to voice it.  
  
“Lie down.” He wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed to him that his voice perhaps sounded a little bit  _different_. Still unsure, but more… he wasn’t quite sure, but he misliked it.  
  
Nevertheless, she complied. He was about to join her and  _finish_  this damned task when he realized that he  _still_  had not quite seen fit to unlace his breeches.  
  
He was an utter  _fool_.  
  
Still, regardless of his idiocy, the act  _had_  to be completed, and he unlaced his breeches slowly, tugging himself out and trying  _not_  to remember Robert’s vulgar and inappropriate words, instead of reminding himself of what  _was_  important.  
  
_It is my duty_.  
  
Again, that queer feeling surfaced as Stannis lay down on top of her, moving with one swift motion and then another. Quickly. Surely. That was what  _must_  be done, was it not? Quickly. Surely. But, it seemed to him that it took him far too long. Still, he found himself reciting the same words in his mind over and over again.  
  
_It is my duty_.  
  
Stannis heard her make a queer noise just as he finished, breathing nothing short of a sigh of utter  _relief_.  
  
_It is done_.  
  
He lay awake next to the Lady Selyse well into the evening. As far as… obligations went, it was only  _somewhat_  unpleasant (as opposed to  _exceedingly_ ). He would do his duty as often as he could, as often as he felt was necessary.  
  
Yet as he finally drifted off into a restless sleep, his final thought drifted to Davos Seaworth, his onion knight. Davos’s advice had been the only sort that he had sought, though he hadn’t come into the man’s presence with that express purpose in mind. The two of them had sat in silence for quite some time before Stannis nearly broached the subject with him. But he had quickly shut his mouth, saying nothing. But in the end, Davos had spoken, sure and true and always painfully  _honest_.  
  
“It has been said that a man’s wedding night might very well help to determine the course of his marriage.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted for got_exchange a couple of years ago. The giftee asked for awkward sex, and I'm pretty sure I didn't disappoint.


End file.
